Nancy parked her car by the curb. With her engine idling she opened the window and peered over the edge into the darkness. Her headlights caught the steady glitter of cool, light rain. She paused briefly, wound up the window and drove along at a slower speed. Through the headlights, she looked for any fresh skidmarks across the wet tar — a final act of reckless driving. There was nothing. She continued on...
On past occasions, Nancy found old wrecks left at the bottom of embankments across this treacherous part of the region. Many of the vehicles had been stolen, crashed and then abandoned. On occasions there were fatalities.
Most of the fatalities involved younger men. Hot-headed young men during weekends in small neighbouring towns with alcohol fuelling their blood, giving vent to their frustrated lives and a release from a work-heavy week.
She first read the consistency of such incidents in a national paper. After that, she knew she had to move to this region.
Even after many years, the local government had done little about the dangerous road and Nancy was happy about that. The local town morgue was always busiest on weekends. It was the thought of the futility that aroused her, the loss of loved young men, the loss of not-so-loved young men, daring to test their luck on the road. Usually they were found in pairs - coupled for seeking death.
She loved the risks they took, the state in which she found them, the condition they were in, each visitation was a surprise for her. She made herself so sticky in discovering their sticky ends. She thought of them doing it just for her utmost pleasure. And utmost pleasure it was...
Her dark blue sedan kept moving slowly, following the black ribbon of glossy tar squeezed between the rock face on one side and a precipice on the other. The car approached a rise with the road sharply curving to the right. Another hair-pin turn but still a clean road. She glanced at the time in her car, it was now just after midnight and the men would be spilling out of the bars by now. Fuelled up, reaching for their car keys or hot-wiring in a frenzy, ready to test their skills behind the wheel.
Nancy's car climbed a rise before she turned left and drove along the narrow path to her favourite haunt - the lookout. Here was a way for her to view the surrounding, hilly area and spot the potential talent as it raced itself out of luck. To catch glimpses of car headlights as the young male drivers would climb up the steep, winding road that cut through the thick, wooded area. She would sit with engine idling, viewing their progress along the road. It was the erratic drivers that caught her attention the most.
She waited for twenty minutes, her CB tuned into the emergency services channel as she ran some lipstick over her lips and tied back her dark, straight hair. The time was just after midnight. Midnight was her time. A time when her senses were on full alert. All she had to do was wait for them to come into her domain. She checked the passenger seat beside her and tested the helmet's camcorder and lamp. The battery was fully recharged and ready.
A car approached behind her, arriving at the lookout. The headlights swept through her car as the vehicle stopped beside her. She paused and then looked at the occupants - a young couple. The woman driver stopped the engine and turned off the headlights. They were settling in for the night. Nancy tried to ignore them, but ignoring them wasn't easy. She listened to the sounds that began to leak out of their car and into hers. She could see the movement of limbs, entwined. Mouths locked in passion. The passenger seat had been retracted and the woman driver had moved over. The last thing she saw was the man's head dipping low while the woman laid back with eyes closed, lips parted in pleasure.
Nancy reversed her car and headed back down the narrow road. Just as she turned left onto the main road she witnessed a momentary play of light - a set of headlights disappearing swiftly over an embankment in the distance.
Was it just her imagination, her wanting of it?
She put her foot down to investigate, passed some sharp turns, a dip in the road and near the inside lane her trained eyes observed fragments of shattered glass reflecting in her high beam headlights.
She slowed down to observe the road. The fragments of glass looked recent, it was certainly not there earlier in the night. She drove on, moved her car into the outside lane closest to the precipice. Not long after she noted 2 pairs of dark lines making straight for the precipice. There was no broken barrier to report it. Nothing. Just the wilderness at night. She shivered, wondering if this was her evening. She began to search for a place to park her car. The immediate surrounds offered little space to park away from the main road. The shoulder of the road was too narrow for her to leave her car there and any police or ambulances would see it.
Familiar with the area, she drove her car to an off-ramp for vehicles a little further down and parked her vehicle safely out of sight from the main road...
The torch on her miner's helmet shone as she worked her way down the steep embankment, pausing only occasionally beside dripping trees to get her breath.
As she approached, she switched her camcorder on. Images in the viewfinder came up fuzzy at first, the way they always did when she played the footage back in her dim, candlelit bedroom.
Thick, dark trunks of trees appeared in her viewfinder, she looked right, then left. There was a trail left by something large, out of control. Undergrowth had been ripped out, shrubs flattened. Fragments of metal, a bumper...
The car appeared suddenly, wedged between trees, upright but seriously damaged. Well concealed from the main road above, a position that suited her interests well.
Was this the car she was after? The fresh one?
She prayed that this was it and that the right circumstances would greet her.
When she saw a trail of steam emptying from the engine into the cool night air, she felt the first full wave of desire. Her nipples began to harden from the sight, the expectation. An intermingling of excitement, dread and lust hit her as she stepped closer.
With her being the first to discover them, her heart leaped at the exclusive potential as she peered into the front seat, the camcorder collecting imagery of the contents in the car. Young men, as usual, stinking of beer and whiskey. The man nearest her was staring out, unblinking, her camera moved closer to record the eyes and reveal the deep gash in his throat.
At first, the only sound was just of her emitting a soft moan.
Her hand unintentionally appeared in the viewfinder, caressing the pale face slowly, tenderly. Her blood-red fingernails upturned and dancing seductively across his cold brow.
'So what happened to you, baby'! She uttered softly.
Nancy's vagina began to stir as her fingers traced the stubble on the battered chin. Her breathing came short and sharp as she examined his face. Her fingers moved from brow to mouth.
Her vulva convulsed in anticipation just as he had moments before he left himself to her. She wanted desperately to explore this discovery, to rub herself against him. Each frictional move to pass through her taut panties, each tugging motion to arouse her.
The helpless, unknowing state of him making her groan inwardly at the sight as her sex anticipated the first young, dead cock pleasuring her this evening. She could already imagine the hardness of him.
All he needed, she thought, was some encouragement and guidance, all she needed was a little time...
She kept her ear out for sirens as she tugged in desperation at the door on the driver's side. It wouldn't budge. The viewfinder caught her hands as she moved to the front of the car, slid herself over the hood and through the vacant windscreen.
Unbuckling his trousers swiftly, she jerked them down to his lower thighs, his underpants followed...
The large syringe shone in the lamplight, its point glistening at one end, a thick, opague fluid contained at the other. The large needle descended between the man's legs, she slowly lifted the man's scrotum and probed with her fingers ... Steadily the needle burrowed inside his groin, penetrating deep inside towards the tube. Her hand now let the scrotum drop as she stretched out his flaccid length.
Aware of its precise location, Nancy let the fluid enter whilst she massaged firmly, allowing the young stud's penis to harden evenly.
She watched with anticipation as his pale cock rose at her command, its length slowly shifting, stirring restlessly, pointing away from its deceased owner before finally standing vertically. The swollen glans now level with his belly button. She closed the valve once she was content with the erection - a little harder than what he could have naturally achieved in life, as she preferred them that way.
Proud of her handiwork, she ran a blood-red fingernail down its length and began to kiss his cool lips whilst the sound of peeling foil could be heard...
'Let me be the lover you'll never know'! She moaned gently into his ear as she positioned the condom on the thick glans before unrolling it over the cock of her dead lover.
Her experienced, strong fingers patiently drawing the latex down towards the base of the shaft whilst cupping and pulling teasingly on his cold, pendulous balls.
'Let me look at you, my gorgeous stud!'
Her voice had an exultant tone as she tilted the camera on her helmet to get a full view.
In the viewfinder the eyes of the dead man stared into the lens as she gasped and slowly raised her skirt. She kissed him some more, the scent of fresh blood dizzying her, intoxicating her.
She began to kiss more passionately, her tongue probing confidently into the blood-tinged mouth of her unknowing lover whilst rubbing against his crotch.
Nancy then sat back against the crumpled dash and slowly removed her top, only to return by sitting on his thighs and rubbing herself against him.
The viewfinder recorded the action of her resting her bare feet on each shoulder, her thighs appeared briefly as she slowly tore the velcro at the front of her panties. The camera did not catch the cotton slowly peeling away from her moist vulva, but it did capture her slowly parting her thighs - now in full frontal view of his unseeing, staring eyes. The thick outer labias slowly parting, sticky with hot lust, the inner beauty of her strawberry-coloured pouch demanding its first cold, pale filling for the evening.
'Now just let Momma give her baby the sweetest parting gift!'
She held his shaft, guiding it to her soft, warm folds. With self-discipline fading fast, she ran the pale head of his stiff member in slow circles around her swollen vulva, the sweet scent of her delicious sex wafted over the corpse's penis in waves as she rubbed him against her.
Guiding him in slow, delicious circles with an occasional sharp slap to her slick entrance. Nancy began to ease him into her aching hole, relishing the monologue erupting from her wild sex as she rode her speechless specimen hard.